My Nanny Diary

Looking like Scarlett doesn't automatically come with the job. What a rip.

In case if in the near future you are presented with the option of either nannying for a wealthy family for free.99 housing, or living in an overly priced crapshack eating discounted shrimp chips for breakfast, lunch and dinner, go with the shrimp chips.

Because if you take the first option, you will quake and sob everyday (and only sometimes in your boyfriend’s arms), dreaming of a 24-hours free of panic attacks. But shrimp chips mean you won’t have to worry about the scratches you would inflict on their spare Lexus. You won’t fail to fill the pool to the exact center of the third line, nor lock yourself out of the thoroughly alarmed house when they are on vacation and need to call their relatives to rescue you, nor have a 6 year-old throw the most terrifying tantrums, accusing you of starving little girls because you won’t let her take off her seatbelt and jump into the trunk of the moving car to grab a bag of almonds.

And most of all, shrimp chips mean you won’t feel lonely because even if you won’t be able to afford anything else, you can afford time to be with people who think you aren’t too shabby or incompetent of a person (read: friends).

But in case you don’t take my advice and still opt for the panic attacks, make sure you believe in an amazing God who bails you out of your mess every other hour, and still thinks you’re lovely despite it all. He will be your Lifeline, your Hope, and Savior (in ways you never thought were needed).